Shooting the Horse
by Voyager Tip
Summary: Fourteen year old Jeffrey finally gets the chance to shoot a gun, but gets more than he bargained for.


**Shooting The Horse**

Phineas listened to the conversation as they ate supper at the ranch. There was an injured horse on the property and it looked like it wasn't going to get better. He had been thinking about this very thing for a few days now and wondered if he should take action on this opportunity. He glanced over at Jeff, who was also listening to the conversation. He knew that Jeff had been dying to fire a gun, and being at this ranch, with its easy access to guns was not a comfortable place for him to be. Phineas knew the temptation was very great, but so far Jeff had resisted it.

"So I think it's settled," John, the ranch owner finally said. His wife put her hand to her mouth. "I guess I'll do it tonight, no sense in waiting any longer. He'll just suffer more."

They got up from the table and Bogg approached John as Jeff watched. "John, would you mind if I take care of the horse?" Phineas asked the rancher.

John turned to him in surprise, "what do you want to do that for?" he asked.

"Jeff has wanted to fire a gun for awhile, and I'd like to have him do it."

Jeff's mouth opened in surprise as he listened to this exchange.

John stared at Bogg for a moment, then nodded. "You're a wise man Phineas. He's tied out behind the barn. Just leave him where he falls, we'll drag him out into the field with the tractor in the morning."

As John left, Bogg turned to Jeff. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"This is great. What made you change your mind?" Jeff asked.

"The situation," was Phineas' cryptic answer.

"What'do you mean?" Jeff asked as they walked out onto the porch together.

Bogg turned to him. "Every time you've wanted to shoot a gun, somebody has a can of beans, or some other target," he began.

"So?"

"So, when you use a gun like that, you're pretty far removed from what a gun actually does."

Jeff rolled his eyes, "I know what a gun does Bogg."

Bogg looked at him for a moment, then finally spoke. "When you use a gun, one jerk of your finger can rip a person apart. You need to be very sure that you want to move that finger and you can't appreciate what that finger's movement can do if all you've seen a bullet do is hit a can of beans."

"Look, I'm not stupid, I know what guns do," Jeff said, irritation in his voice.

"Yes, intellectually you do. I want you to know in your gut."

"But you can practice with a can of beans, can't you?" Jeff returned. "Just for fun I mean."

"I don't want you to ever think of shooting a gun as fun," Bogg replied quietly.

Jeff shook his head, Bogg was so wrong about this. He was afraid to tell him so though, because he thought he might change his mind and not let him shoot the gun.

"Here you go," John said as he approached them from behind and handed Bogg a pistol.

"Thanks," Bogg said, taking it from him and then he motioned Jeffrey to follow him.

They walked behind the barn and Bogg stopped 20 feet from where the horse was standing, one of its legs was sticking out at an odd angle. It stood on 3 legs, some hay was hanging from a bag beside its head, but the horse wasn't eating.

"Don't point it anywhere except the ground or at the horse," Bogg inatructed, and handed the pistol to Jeff, who took it excitedly.

The pistol was heavier than Jeff expected and he pointed it at the back of the barn accidentally as soon as he took it. Bogg reached up and pushed it down toward the ground. Jeff rolled his eyes again as he lowered the gun. Why did everything have to be so exact with Bogg anyway? He wasn't about to pull the trigger after all. Jeff sighed and turned toward the horse.

"The bullet should go behind both eyes, that'll be the quickest, less suffering that way. Put it right up against his head, then even if the kickback gets away from you, it'll do the job."

Phineas paused and waited for Jeff to move.

Jeff stood holding the gun and slowly realized that he was going to kill this beautiful horse. It was a young palomino. The thought of killing it turned his stomach. This was not what he'd meant when he'd begged Bogg to let him fire a gun all those times. He'd never wanted to kill anything. He hesitated and looked at Bogg. "I never said I wanted to kill anything."

"Take your time," Bogg said, ignoring the remark. "As long as he's standing still, he's not in much pain."

"Why're you making me do this?" When Bogg still didn't answer, Jeff continued, "who do you think you are anyway?"

Bogg swallowed, but didn't answer. Jeff scowled at him, anger rising up inside him. He walked toward the horse and put his hand on its sleek, soft back. This was a mercy killing, he thought. The horse would die a slow, agonizing death unless someone killed it quickly. He 'd wanted to fire a gun, now he had the opportunity. He raised the gun up and placed the nose against the soft fur of the palomino's head.

He paused for several seconds and then squeezed the trigger. The kickback was strong, much stronger than Jeff had ever thought. Now he knew why Bogg had warned him about that. He saw the horse's brains splatter on the ground, standing out against the white background of snow. Next he heard the thud of the beautiful body hitting the ground. The body lay in front of him, twisted unnaturally, and very still. He had taken that life, he had just killed a living thing.

Jeff lowered the gun and stood staring at the horse. He felt a cascade of emotions. Anger at Bogg for making him do this, sadness about the need for killing this beautiful animal, and shock at the power he held in his hand. He slowly turned and walked back to Bogg. He was careful to point the gun at the ground and handed it back. He kept walking and Bogg followed him back into the house. He walked quietly upstairs to the room he and Bogg had been sharing, Bogg walked to the fireplace and placed the gun on the highest shelf of the mantle, where John kept it. Then he sat down in front of the fire.

He was sorry to be so stern with Jeff. He had always liked being his friend a lot more than acting like his parent. He hoped that Jeff didn't hate him for forcing him to do such a brutal thing. But, it wasn't really brutal, it was kind, Phineas reminded himself. Somehow though, it didn't seem kind. The evening passed, with the other members of this farming family coming and going. Soon Phineas was sitting alone beside the dying embers in the fireplace. It was almost midnight. He felt so torn. He wanted Jeff to understand what a gun was capable of, but he was only 14, he didn't need to know yet. Suddenly Phineas felt deep regret. He was sure he'd been wrong to force Jeff to do this. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He felt so alone. Jeff would never understand. He would hold this against him forever, he thought sadly. All because he didn't want Jeff to ever make the same mistake with a gun that he'd seen so many others make. He realized there were tears in his eyes.

He heard someone clear their throat and looked away, surreptitiously wiping his eyes, then he looked up, it was Jeff.

---

Jeff lay on the bed staring at the ceiling for what seemed to him an eternity. He tried to focus on his anger at Bogg, but as time went by, he realized he wasn't mad. Even his feelings for the horse became less acute as the evening progressed. As he lay there, he realized what would not leave his mind. The power that he'd held in his hand was astonishing. He also realized that anyone could have that power, anyone who held a gun. You didn't have to be wise, or good to hold a gun either. He also realized that if two people held guns on each other, chances are, one of them would have a horrible, and fast death. It was hard to absorb the enormity of the lesson he had learned. Now he realized why Bogg never picked up a gun. It was much easier to stop someone who had a gun, if you didn't. This was why Bogg had said he didn't need a gun to stop Billy the Kid. Billy hadn't understood, had thought Bogg was crazy. Now, Jeffrey finally understood. The realization took Jeff's breath away.

As he lay there, he slowly came to another conclusion. He needed to thank Bogg for allowing him to learn these things, for using this situation to teach him. He was struck by how brilliantly Bogg had taught him this tremendous lesson, how he had let him figure it out for himself. Bogg had given him this gift. Suddenly he rose and headed for the stairs.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs and saw Bogg sitting alone in front of the embers. He was slumped over, his head in his hands. He reminded Jeff of someone who felt hopeless. He looked worn out. Jeff watched for several seconds and Bogg didn't move. He cleared his throat and watched as Bogg looked away and wiped his eyes. Jeff's stomach turned over. Could Bogg be this upset because of him? He walked forward.

"Hey" he whispered as he sat down beside Bogg.

"Hi," Bogg said and cleared his throat.

They sat quietly together.

"I came down to thank you for teaching me this lesson. I don't want to fire any more guns. It's a lot safer to stay away from them. Now I know why you said you didn't need a gun when you got between Billy the Kid and Teddy Roosevelt. I'm sorry I've been nagging you to let me use one," Jeff paused, "I didn't understand."

Bogg stared at him in amazement for a few seconds, then smiled. "I thought you'd hate me for making you do it," he whispered.

Jeff put his hand on Bogg's shoulder. "I could never hate you… for anything."

The End


End file.
